


Do Anything For You

by its_me_smol_steve



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Coming Out, Confessions of love, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Anxiety, M/M, Maybe more - Freeform, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers is a Gift, and kind of angst, because now there's four, for like 2 seconds, getting better, he's always a gift, i still don't know how to tag, it depends on if our boys decide they're gonna listen to me, it's worth mentioning though, its gonna be like three chapters long, not really - Freeform, or chapter apparently, roller skating, slight f/f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-12-30 12:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18315683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_me_smol_steve/pseuds/its_me_smol_steve
Summary: Steve's not okay. Not nearly. Bucky helps. Through the experience, they learn they don't have to be okay; they just have to stick together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back!! This work is as yet unfinished. It should be about 4 chapters long? I'm gonna add more tags as they're needed and hopefully figure out if this fic is actually gonna do what I want it to. If you want fluff, this is the place to be!

"Hey," he started cautiously.

"Hey."

"You okay?" Blue eyes turned to look at him. A shrug, but no answer.

"Yeah, I thought as much," Bucky affirmed. "Anything we can do about it?"

A trembling bottom lip was arrested by teeth. Another shrug, then the teeth released. "I should be okay. I've got no reason not to be." Steve cleared his throat, then got out in a choked whisper, "I'm just not sure I wanna be okay right now."

"That's the thing, you don't hafta be." He sat on the couch next to Steve and settled sideways with his arm pressed against the cushion and his legs half tucked under him.

Steve let his head roll back until it was laying on the cushion. "Don't I?" He shook his head and looked away, blinked up at the ceiling. "I've been fine for a long time, Buck, and there's no reason I shouldn't be fine today."

"Yeah, emotions don't make much sense, do they?" He mirrors Steve's position. "That's what Sam says when we talk, it's what Dr. Ramos says when I see her. Emotions don't make sense."

"Playing dirty, bringing your therapist into it," Steve murmured, and Bucky grinned.

"Like you weren't the one to introduce me to her, sure, punk, I'm the one playing dirty." Steve smiled, and Bucky's heart broke. The smile lasted for less than two seconds and it was clear Steve didn't believe it at all. "Hey," the brunet said, and waited until Steve looked at him. "You're not okay. Don't pretend like you are."

Steve shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath, then looked at Bucky and nodded. He looked away, back up at the ceiling, before speaking again. "I was thinking of her today. Mostly about how it didn't hurt as much. And now I just kinda miss her and feel outta place." He gave a miserable shrug, and Bucky's heart broke again. He missed Sarah, too, but it was nothing compared to how Steve felt, he knew.

"Well," Bucky said quietly, "least you know now that I mean it. I'm with ya till the end of the line." Steve sobbed, and Bucky looked over to see silent tears leaking out from closed eyes.

"I know," he whispered, and Bucky's heart broke for a third time. He loved this man too damn much.

"Hey," he says, unable to sit still. "C'mere." He opens his arms and Steve tips into them, laying where Bucky puts him. "'S about time you let me take care of ya, punk, there ya go," he said, earning a semblance of a laugh and a cold nose stuck in his throat. He carded his fingers through golden strands in case Steve got any ideas about moving. "You don't hafta be okay, Stevie," he whispered, holding him closer. "You don't, I swear. You pick me up so many times. It's just my turn now to pick you up, is all." Steve didn't answer, just shifted closer and let the hot tears silently fall. "There we are," Bucky murmured when he felt the tears slow, and finally stop. "You feeling any better?" Steve let out a wet-sounding breath, but otherwise didn't answer, and Bucky shifted just enough to see closed eyes and slack features. Steve had cried himself to sleep. "Jarvis, twilight mode," he whispered, and nodded when the lights dimmed.

"At your service, Sergeant Barnes," Jarvis said quietly, as per his twilight coding. "Anything else I can do for you?"

He thought about it, then pointed to the TV. "Nature," he finger-spelled, and the TV switched on to BBC's Planet Earth at a low volume. Bucky smiled and brought his palm down from his lips, signing a thank you. The little camera in the corner moved up, then down, then back to its position. Bucky smiled at it before turning his attention back to the documentary.

A little while later, Steve sighed, shifted, and stuck his cold nose in Bucky's neck. Bucky jerked, not expecting it, and Steve let out another breath, this one meant as a laugh. "Okay, sure, yuk it up," Bucky groused, but he was grinning, too. "You feeling any better?"

Steve hummed. "A little." He shifted again and brought his nose away from Bucky's neck. "I don't really know how to describe it."

"Let's find a way," Bucky suggested. "One that works for both of us." He thought for a minute, "How about like a pain scale? One is no pain, or in this case... wait." He thought again, "Okay, so a reverse pain scale. On a pain scale, the lower the better. On this scale, the higher the better. So if you're at a one, you're depressed, don't want to live anymore, you have the gun in your hand. If you're at a ten, it's your wedding day. You're the happiest you've ever been. Right smack-dab in the middle, five is days spent lounging around the Tower. Not anything too special, nothing to really make you happy or sad. If that's our scale, where were you when I first walked in?"

Steve shrugged, "A three? I dunno."

"And where would you say you are now?"

A hum, "Four? Four and a half?" He scooched closer to Bucky, "Never mind. It's a four."

"Okay. And what would you say is your number on a normal day?"

Steve sighed. "Six? Seven?"

It was Bucky's turn to hum. "Okay. You said you didn't know what caused it?"

Steve shook his head. "I know I'll be fine tomorrow, which just makes me feel even worse. If I'm fine tomorrow, why can't I be fine today?" He let out a quick breath, less a huff and more of an attempt to keep his emotions tamped down.

"Hey," Bucky said, and poked him in the side. "Nuh-uh. I know you, Steve. You're gonna bottle up all your emotions again, just like always, and put on a brace face. But you can't fool me. I know you too well. Don't try, okay? Just let yourself not be okay. Let me be okay for you, and trust that this is something I can do."

Steve sniffled. "Dammit Buck, this is your fault." He curled around the brunet more, "Why d'you gotta say exactly what I need to hear?" Bucky chuckled and held Steve tighter as he cried again. The tears stopped a few minutes later, but Steve didn't move. "You awake?" Steve hummed in the affirmative, then gave two quick taps on Bucky's arm, a pause, then a long tap. Bucky grinned at the reminder of their shorthand version of Morse code that really wasn't Morse code at all and was really just a bunch of taps with meanings behind them. Two short ones, a pause, then a long one meant "stay put," and in this instance, Bucky knew Steve meant himself. He meant he was comfortable where he was. He gave three short taps on Steve's arm, and the blond's breath caught. This was another one one the two of them knew. "I love you, too," Steve whispered, leaning more into Bucky.

"Feeling any better?" Bucky asked again, and Steve shrugged.

"Not quite a four, not quite a four and a half. Somewhere in between."

"So slightly better," Bucky interpreted, and smiled. "You at a place where you wanna get better?"

"No?" Steve sighed, "I'm okay with not being okay, but I don't want to think about it."

Bucky hummed, and the clock above the TV caught his eye. "Why don't we eat something? I know you're probably not hungry, but food's gonna help, and if it doesn't, it definitely isn't gonna hurt. What do you think? What could you stomach right now?"

He could feel Steve's frown. "I dunno. Anything, I guess, but nothing seems appetizing."

"Hmm," Bucky said, then grinned. "I've got an idea, but it's gonna take a little bit of time, and I've gotta make it. Are you okay with letting me get up? I'll be back in twenty minutes."

A sigh, "Yeah, its fine, I should... I've gotta..." he gestured down the hall to the bathroom, and Bucky smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, go ahead. Come back out here after and grab a blanket, okay?"

"I can't tell if you're mother henning me or if this is actually gonna help."

Bucky grinned. "Can't it be both? Go ahead, do whatcha gotta, I'll be back in twenty minutes."

Steve gave him a soft smile as he got up. "Thanks, Buck. Seriously."

"Hey, anything for my best guy," Bucky grinned, and walked off towards the kitchen before he did something stupid, like kiss him. He remembered everything, he'd told Steve this before, which means he remembered how they'd been before. Steve hadn't said anything, which clearly meant he didn't want it. Bucky sighed as he chopped bell peppers and put them in with the sautéing garlic and onions. It was fine. Steve didn't have to want it. Right now though, he needed Bucky, and Bucky was more than fine with that. He'd do anything for Steve. He turned the heat up to speed up the vegetables, added the browned ground beef and some chicken stock, stirred it, then added water and turned the heat back down to let it simmer.

He went back out to the living room to find Steve had haphazardly thrown a blanket over his legs and was more or less watching whatever episode of Planet Earth was on. Bucky saw lions when he glanced at the screen. "Hey, you doin' okay?"

"More or less," Steve shrugged, turning to face Bucky. "It smells really good. What're you-"

"Nuh-uh," Bucky interrupted. "You're not okay, you're not hungry, and you're not changing the subject, got it?" He sighed, sat on the edge of the couch to face Steve. "You don't have to be okay," he said quietly. "But you do have to stop pretending you are. I know you far too well for that, Steve, and it breaks my heart every time you fake a smile." He laid his palm on Steve's jaw to keep his attention and gave him a small, sad smile. "You don't need to pretend, least of all with me. I dunno who told ya you hafta be okay all the time, but fuck 'em. They dunno shit. You're allowed to be sad. Your feelings are valid, you got that? Always. They're always valid."

Steve let his eyes slip shut and tilted his head further into Bucky's hand. "I'm always okay," he whispered, blue pupils boring into the storm grey-blue of Bucky's. "So I should be okay today."

"Maybe you can do this all day, pal, but I can do it all day and then some. Emotions aren't logical. They don't make sense. Sometimes a day sucks for no reason. We survive it and we get back to living the next day. But I know you, Steven Grant Rogers, I know you far too well. And if you don't let yourself feel it today, you won't be back tomorrow." He shakes Steve's head softly with the hand still on the blond's jaw. "Let yourself feel. Please."

Steve's jaw tightened. He huffed a breath out through his nose and looked away. "Dammit," he suddenly muttered, and sprang up from the couch, stalking towards the front door. Bucky scrambled across the couch to watch him scoop his shoes up from the floor and stalk out, just barely stopping the door from slamming.

"Dammit," Bucky parroted softly, and scrambled over to the window to watch Steve, shoes on, run off in the direction of the park. "Dammit," he said again, louder, and clenched his hands into fists before releasing them, swinging around to look for his phone.

"Hello?"

"How the hell do you get Steve to listen to you?"

A pause, "Good afternoon to you, too, Bucky. And honestly I'm surprised every time it works. What's this about?"

"Steve's not having a great day. Scratch that, he's not even having a _good_ day. I've been trying to help him through it because I know him, and I know the only way he'll be okay tomorrow is if he feels it, but he just gives me the same bullshit answer every time, that's he's always fine so there's no reason he shouldn't be today. Sam," Bucky paused, took a breath, and continued quieter. "I'm worried about him. This is the first time I've ever seen him run away from a fight."

Sam hummed, which didn't give Bucky much hope. "If I'm being honest, and I am, the only person who's had real success getting him to listen is you." He sighed, "That being said, he might listen if we're both telling him the same thing. Can you put him on the line?"

"I didn't mean he's metaphorically running away, Sam, I mean he literally got his shoes on and is probably sprinting laps around the Reflection Pool as we speak." He ran his free hand through his hair as he huffed.

"Damn," Sam said simply, and Bucky heard rustling on the other end of the receiver. "You listening to me?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. First of all, you did everything right. You need to know that. It's not your fault. Second, I'm headed out the door right now. I'll meet you over there in five minutes, okay?"

"It takes me ten minutes."

"I guess you'd better run, then." He disconnected, and Bucky shook his head.

"Dammit, Wilson," he said, but he was smiling as he ran to get his shoes.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Bucky got there, Sam was sitting at the edge of the pool. "Asshole," he grumbled, kicking Sam's shin when the younger man grinned at him. "Not a word."

"Wasn't gonna say anything," Sam said, hands up, but Bucky believed that about as much as he believed his own brain most days, given the smirk still on Sam's face.

"C'mon," he said, shaking his head and looking around. "You see him?"

"I haven't since I got here."

"Dammit," Bucky muttered, and Sam agreed with a nod.

"Where else would he go?"

"You think I know him most anymore?" Bucky shook his head, let out a bark of a laugh. "We hardly know each other anymore. I want to, God knows I want to, but how'm I supposed to do that when he won't fucking talk to me?" He ran a hand through his hair, shook his head, and started off at a jog. "C'mon, I've got a couple ideas."

"Y'know, he does talk," Sam said a little while into their run. "The question isn't why doesn't he. It's why doesn't he to you."

"Exactly," Bucky agreed, "especially since he used to. That's one thing I'm sure about. Not as much as some people I know," he added, smirking at Sam, "but he did talk. About literally anything. And he wouldn't try to hide when he wasn't okay." He paused, thinking, "Well, besides when he was sick."

"I wonder if it's because he knows you've changed."

"So what? We've both changed. And we both recognize it."

"Think about what I'm saying, man." He slowed down to a walk, "You've both changed, yeah, and you both came back with issues. You're telling me he wouldn't hide his own to help you with yours?"

Bucky stopped completely and stared at Sam. "That motherfucker," he said wonderingly. "I'm gonna beat his ass."

"Kinky," Sam commented, and Bucky whacked him on the back of his head. Hard. With his left hand. "Ow! Dammit, Barnes!"

Bucky just shrugged. "'S your own fault."

Just then, Sam's phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and raised a brow at Bucky before answering the call. "Hello?"

"Sam? I stepped out to clear my head and when I got back Bucky was gone. I tried calling him but he left his phone here."

"Hey," Sam said calmly. "Breathe. It's alright. Gimme just one second, alright?" He held the phone out to Bucky and whispered, "It's your idiot."

Bucky took the phone. "Steve, where the hell did you go? I'm out looking for you!"

Steve breathed out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Buck. I was planning just to run but I ran to Ma. By the time I realized where I was, I couldn't not see her, and I didn't even think about telling you."

"Jesus fuck, Steve," Bucky breathed. "Okay. Stay put, yeah? I'll be back in..." he trailed off and looked at Sam. "Where the hell are we?" He heard Steve snort and said into the receiver, "Shuddup."

Sam shrugged. "You're the one with the eidetic memory."

Bucky made a face. "You shuddup too. Okay, Steve, I'll be back in less than fifteen minutes. Fuckin' stay there, you got me?"

"I gotcha, Buck," Steve said softly, and Bucky nodded.

"Okay. Be right there. Bye." He hit the red end button and handed Sam's phone back to him. "Thanks, Sam, seriously. Saved my life. See you Tuesday?"

"You know it," Sam said, and gave him a two-fingered salute as he wandered off.

* * *

 Bucky walked in, toed his shoes off, turned, and was tackled by the one person he was most mad at. If it also happened to be exactly what he needed, he wasn't gonna say anything. "Fuckin' hell, Steve," Bucky breathed, squeezing him back. "Don't do that to me, Goddammit. Scared the hell outta me."

"I'm sorry," Steve said, face currently buried in Bucky's shoulder. "I just... I got back, and you weren't here, and I thought this was it, I'd finally pushed you away, and I was terrified. I didn't know what to do."

"You listen to me, Rogers," Bucky whispered fiercely, squeezing Steve even tighter. "You will never push me away. I swear to God it won't happen. If we piss each other off we'll talk about it like grown-ass adults. But you'll never in a million years do anything to push me away. Ever. You got that?" He got a miserable nod in return, and they stayed like that for a long while until Steve's breathing evened out some.

"I'm sorry," he said again, pulling away and wiping at his face. "God, I'm an idiot."

"What's that make me, then?" Bucky gave him a soft smile. "C'mon, let's go eat. It's been on the stove for hours now, it's ready."

"And _it_ is?" Steve asked, following Bucky into the kitchen.

Feeling better about life in general now that Steve was back, Bucky just threw a grin over his shoulder. He served two bowls and gave one to Steve with a hopeful smile.

"Ma's soup," Steve whispered reverently, and bit his lip as tears gathered in his eyes. "Sorry," he said, and laughed wetly as he wiped his face again. "God, Buck, it smells just like hers."

"I think I remembered it correctly," Bucky modestly said, stirring his own. "I can never be sure, though."

Steve looked up at him at that. "Is there anything you are sure about?"

"You," came the immediate answer. "I'm always sure about you. About who you are to me and about who you are in your core." He gave a half-smile and a shrug, dropping his eyes down to his bowl for a second.

Steve gaped at him. "I-" he shook his head, looked down at his own bowl, and took a bite. "Christ," he whispered, eyes shut. "It's perfect, Buck."

"Yeah?" Bucky gave him, or his spoon, or his bowl--neither of them were sure anymore--a small, almost quizzical smile before taking his own bite. He hummed thoughtfully as he chewed. "Doesn't need more salt? Or pepper? Something's missing."

Steve frowned and took another bite, then his face cleared. "Molasses! She usually added a bit of molasses because she made this when the vegetables were out of season and not quite ripe yet, remember? They weren't as sweet." He shook his head, "It's right, just a different kind of sweet."

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, that makes sense. I'm starting to remember that, yeah." He grinned, "Remember the first time we wanted to make it to help her? God, she laughed so hard."

Steve frowned. "When? '25?"

"No... you were probably too young to remember. It was '22. We'd seen her make it, right? So we decided we wanted to try because she was working late at the hospital."

"Wait, you're saying she didn't skin us alive for touching her stove?" Steve grinned.

"Just wait, I haven't gotten to that part of the story yet. So we decide we're gonna make it for her, right? So we pull out an onion and a pepper. You were what, maybe four? I was six. So I set you to work peeling the onion. By the time I look back over-" he cuts off, laughing, "By the time I look back over, you'd peeled most of the entire onion. You peeled each layer. I figured each little piece you picked off was sized correctly enough, so I moved onto the pepper, except you really do need a knife to cut it. We both knew we'd die if we touched her knives, so I had the bright idea to pull it apart and into chunks like you did with the onion. So we did all that, and put water in, and I dunno what we thought, but we put it on the stove, didn't turn it on, and still thought it would heat anyways. So by the time Sarah got home, she had two little boys staring at a pot full of water, onions and peppers, and a huge mess everywhere else in the kitchen."

Steve laughed. "What'd she do? I don't remember this at all."

"She just stopped in the doorway of the kitchen and asked what we were doing. Makin' soup, we said, and she damn near had a heart attack until she realized we didn't touch her knives or the stove controls. She laughed so hard after that I thought she was having an asthma attack and tried to give her one of your asthma cigarettes." He laughed, "She obviously didn't accept it, but she did make us pick up every last pepper seed." He grinned, "At least, until we realized we could throw them at each other. I think at that point she kinda banned us from the house and we ran around outside 'til she finished the soup the right way. I think she did use our onion and pepper, though, and we were so damn proud. Best soup there ever was, Steve, I'm tellin' ya." He shook his head solemnly, then laughed when Steve did. "I'm just glad none of my sisters were there. Me being six would've made Becca fourteen, which is when she started to know everything there ever was, even though she didn't, meaning she would've taken over, turned the stove on, and shit woulda hit the fan." He thought, tilted his head, "I think she was over at Jen's house that night."

"She and Jen were inseparable." Steve shook his head, "Did you know they got together later on? Jen came out as a lesbian, Becca came out as bi, and they got married."

"Christ," Bucky said, eyes wide. "What'd Mom 'n' Dad think?"

"Oh, they were pissed," Steve laughed, then sobered. "I wanna say they disowned her, but since she was already seventy-something, she basically said fuck 'em and married who she wanted. They got..." Steve trailed off, "From what I heard, at least, they got... controlling, after we went off to war. Their relationship wasn't the best as it was."

"Well, I'm glad she ended up happy," Bucky remarked quietly. "How about you? What do you think about all the, what's it called? With the rainbows?"

"You mean LGBT?" Bucky nodded. "I think it's great that people can love who they want, y'know? And if I can be honest, it's something I waited a long time for." He hopped backwards up onto the island. "I'm bisexual, essentially meaning I'm attracted to guys and girls."

"Are you now?" Bucky asked, a smile growing on his face. "I'll be damned." He mirrored Steve, jumping onto the opposite counter. "Y'know all those dames I had on my arm? All for show." He shrugged, "I cared for 'em, sure, but I never really felt anythin' for 'em, y'know? Figured out later I was a fairy and almost had an aneurysm." He chuckled, "Glad to see it's not a crime anymore, at the very least."

Steve tilted his head, furrowed his brow. "You're gay?"

Bucky made a face. "I dunno that I like the sound of that. Not because of any negative connotations or nothin', just... it's like bein' put into a box. Just lemme love who I wanna love, y'know?" He shrugged and took another bite of his soup. "But yeah, basically, I like guys."

Steve laughed. "Who'd've thought it, Captain America and his sidekick Bucky Barnes, both queers." He grinned at the brunet, who laughed.

"Who'd'a thunk, indeed. Your team know?"

Steve shrugged. "Sam does, I'm sure Natasha does, but I haven't told anyone besides Sam." He shifted back to lean on his hands. "You? Anyone else know?"

Bucky shrugged. "Natasha, I guess. She scares me. And I think Sam has a suspicion, but you're the first person I've told."

"Oh," Steve said, quietly. "Thank you." He grins, "And yeah, Natasha kinda terrifies me most times."

"I don't understand her!" Bucky exclaimed, already laughing. "She'll be completely normal then out of the blue she'll blurt out a random fact she shouldn't know. Maybe this is just me, I dunno, but I'll be walking, minding my own business, then bam!" He slapped his palm down on the counter. "Thighs of Death. Swear to God she's got me in a lock before I can even blink."

Steve laughed, "She does that with me too. And she looked so damn proud the one time I blocked it, and it was pure reflex. She came at me at a different angle than usual, I saw, and it was muscle memory. She was gasping on the ground and laughing almost giddily. It was weird."

"Natasha in general is weird."

"Y'know, someday she's gonna overhear you."

"Pal, I wouldn't be surprised if she could hear right now. Besides, weird isn't a bad thing. She's weird, I'm weird, you're weird. The only normal one is Sam, and that's weird."

"Imma tell him you said that."

Bucky shrugged, unconcerned. "I've told him worse to his face. He'll get over it." He took the last bite of his soup and set the bowl down. "How're you feeling? What number are you at?"

Steve sighed, frowned at his bowl. "I dunno. Five, probably? But a tentative five. Feels like it could change at any moment and I could be back to a three, y'know?"

"I know," Bucky agreed. "Still, you're doing better."

"Thanks to you," Steve said, smiled, and Bucky shrugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Note: I don't have a beta, so if you see something that's wrong, please tell me!! I want to fix it!!
> 
> Actual Important Note: I can't stress this enough, y'all, if you're not doing great, get help!!! There are people out there who wanna help you. I wanna help you, I swear. I wanna reach through my phone, and through whatever device you're on, and give you a big ol' hug!! Depression is NOT something to be taken lightly. It's NOT something to pretend about. You pretend you're okay, and you crash. I learned that lesson the hard way. If you need help, reach out if you can!
> 
> Meanwhile, I love all of you, I'm praying for each and every one of you (I can hear your thoughts, 'Oh, she's one of *those* girls,' but I'm not, I swear), and thanks so much for reading!! I've finished the story so I can say for sure there are 4 chapters in total. Thanks!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Steve awoke the next morning feeling a whole lot better and a whole lot less embarrassed than he thought he'd be. "Hey, Steve," Bucky smiled warmly when he walked in. "You feeling better?"

"Just like I knew I would," Steve nodded. "Thanks."

"Good!" Bucky smiled, and brought his coffee over to the couch where Steve was. "'Cause I'm not."

Steve was sure Bucky could hear his heart breaking. "What number are you at?" He asked, surprised his voice was as steady as it was.

Bucky hummed and sat down after placing his coffee on the table. "High two, low three." He curled his legs up onto the couch and leaned into Steve before closing his eyes.

"Anything I can do?" Steve asked quietly, instinctively putting his arm around Bucky's shoulders.

Bucky hummed again. "You're doin' it, pal. This is gonna pass, we both know it, so just lemme breathe through it." He shifted slightly, leaned away to see Steve's face. "There's somethin' we need'ta talk about, though."

"Okay?"

"I was talkin' to Sam yesterday, when I was out lookin' for ya, and we were talkin' as we looked, y'know? And he said somethin' that made a lot of sense." He shifted to see Steve better. "Why don't you talk t'me about things anymore? Just anything. Things in general."

"Buck, I... I do."

"No. You listen, Rogers, 'cause I've got my memories back, and I'm sure of this one. You talked to me about everythin'. The only thing you tried to hide was when you were sick."

"I... I dunno, Buck, I guess I've finally done all my talking."

"Bull," he said comfortably. "You're never done talking. It's because of me, of us, isn't it? We've both changed, both come home with baggage, and you're scared you'll scare me away. Like you said yesterday. Or you're scared it'll be too much for me and I'll shut down. Either way, Steve, it's not gonna happen."

"I gotcha, Buck," Steve said quietly. "I'll tell you more, but only if you tell me more, got it?"

"Got it," Bucky smiled.

"Speaking of which." Based on his expression, Bucky wasn't ready for what was gonna come next. "What number were you at yesterday?"

He closed his eyes and leaned back into Steve, hiding his face. He was _screwed_. "Almost the same as today. Mostly at a three."

"Jesus wept, Buck," and the arm around his shoulders tightened. "You listen to me, okay? I don't need you to be okay when I'm not. Let's both not be okay together, for fuck's sake, but don't try to hold it together on my account, you got me?"

"I gotcha," Bucky said quietly, and eyed his coffee with a sigh. "My coffee's too far away," he pouted, and Steve laughed.

All at once, Steve lunged for it. "Christ, Steve!" Bucky yelped as he was pulled along. "I didn't mean for ya t'grab it for me, ya big lug," but he was grinning as he accepted the cup. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Steve said happily. "Wanna watch somethin'?"

"Somethin' like?"

Steve shrugged. "I've got quite a few movies on my list. The next one is... Star Wars? Star Trek?"

"If I may, gentlemen," Jarvis said rather quietly, "I do not believe it would be in your best interest to watch neither Star Wars nor Star Trek today. May I interest you instead in Disney? There are currently over five hundred and thirty Disney movies, television shows, spin-offs, and live-action remakes."

"Holy fuck," Steve breathed, and Bucky almost choked on his coffee.

"Indeed. Shall I help you choose one?"

Steve looked at Bucky and shrugged. "What the hell," Bucky said. "Sure, J, go ahead."

The lights dimmed and a black-and-white Mickey came on the screen. They both smiled at the familiar face. He turned the wheel of a boat as he was being penciled in, then the scene changed. Steve frowned. "I thought that was gonna be the movie."

Bucky shrugged. "I guess we'll see."

The opening scene started as a French voice began singing. Bucky sat up straighter and chuckled at the animated kittens' antics. "It looks cute." Steve sent him a smile, but didn't say anything.

Bucky frowned at the butler when he tried to take the madame's box for her. "I don't like him."

"He's just trying to help!" Steve laughed.

Bucky shook his head. "There's something off about him."

The lawyer arrived, and both men laughed at his antics.

They got through the movie without much more commentary. At the end, Bucky elbowed Steve. "I told you I didn't like that butler."

Steve sighed. "You did, you're right. I'm sorry." He stretched as much as he could with Bucky still tucked into his side. "Feel like doing anything?"

Bucky shrugged. "Get me outta my head. Let's go do something."

Steve thought for a second. "You remember back during the war, people wanted to give us roller skates, to save on gas for tanks and stuff?"

"Yes?"

"It's a big thing now. There's indoor rinks where you can rent roller skates and skate inside. It's a big, flat oval that you skate around. It could be fun."

"So... like ice skating, but it's indoors, and it's on the ground, and it's not cold."

"There's indoor ice skating rinks too, but yeah." Steve shrugged, "it's like that."

"Sure. Let's go roller skating, Steve." Bucky smiled at him, and Steve smiled before standing up, offering Bucky a hand. "C'mon, let's go get dressed."

They both opted for jeans, t-shirts, and jackets. The difference was, Steve was pretty sure Bucky's black jeans were painted on, and he was hard-pressed not to stare.

Bucky wasn't doing much better, mostly praying Steve wouldn't catch him drooling over his biceps in the bunched-up shirt sleeves.

"You, ah..." Steve ran a hand through his hair. Bucky swallowed and did _not_ stare, thank you very much. "You ready to go?"

Bucky shrugged, adjusting the collar of his denim jacket. "Yeah, let's go."

Steve didn't let Bucky out first so he could get a look at his ass. Definitely not. He had the keys, was all.

 _Damn_ , he thought. _I'm screwed_.

Bucky didn't wait for him so he could watch Steve's arms move as he worked. Definitely not.

 _Well, apparently that's what it takes to get me feeling better,_ Bucky thought. _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I hope I survive today without doing something incredibly stupid._

Bucky walked around, looking at the rink, while Steve paid and got their skates. He turned suddenly to tell Steve his shoe size when he saw Steve coming back with two pairs of skates. He frowned, "You know my shoe size?"

Steve laughed, "No, but you borrow mine all the time then complain about how tight they are. They don't have half-sizes so I got you a full size bigger than mine."

Bucky bit his tongue before anything could slip out. "Thanks," he said instead, and took them before sitting down to put them on. He finished before Steve and stood up to get a feel for them. "They're not too different from ice skates," he remarked. "Not as smooth, but I expected that." He turned to look at Steve, who had finished lacing his skate and was standing up. "Thanks for doing this with me."

Steve grinned. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Buck." His grin grew impish, and he said, "Race you to the rink!"

"No fair!" Bucky laughed. "You started first."

"No fair!" Steve mimicked, and Bucky punched his arm. "Ow!"

"You deserved that."

"Debatable."

Bucky snorted. "You've been spending too much time with Tony."

"Okay that actually is true. Doesn't mean you hafta say it." He spun around in front of Bucky and skated backwards.

"Alright, showoff," Bucky laughed. "Just lemme get warmed up and we'll see who's better."

"I didn't realize it was a competition."

Bucky laughed. "Please, Steve, everything's a competition with you."

"I didn't realize it was a competition," Steve repeated slowly, "because we both know I'm gonna win."

Bucky let out a delighted laugh. "Oh, is that how it is?"

"That's how it is," Steve nodded, smile playing on his lips. He turned and ended up skating alongside Bucky. "Race?"

"Race," Bucky agreed. "Around once, if you knock over a kid, you forfeit. Ready? Go!" He sped off, grinning, and heard Steve begin a curse before remembering there were kids around. He shouted it in his childhood tongue instead, and Bucky shot some choice words back. "You ain't slick," he grinned. "I know all your tricks."

"You sure about that?" Steve asked, right beside him, and Bucky swore, soft enough that no kids around would hear. The bastard just laughed. "Uh oh, we're getting close," he sing-songed, and edged closer.

Bucky muttered more choice words and put on an extra burst of speed, rounding the corner just before Steve. He did half a victory lap before cutting across to join Steve again. "Toldja," he said simply, and Steve laughed.

"Sure, pal. Hey, how're you feeling? What number?"

Bucky gaped at his less-than-smooth transition. "You fucker," he hissed. "That was all to make me feel better?"

"Did it work?"

"Fucker," he muttered again. "Yeah, it worked. I'm at a four and a half."

Steve fist pumped and started skating backwards. Bucky's eyes widened and he lunged forward to grab Steve and pull him back. He overestimated and pulled too hard, causing Steve to bump into him. "Sorry," he said, holding Steve's shoulders. "You were about to run over a kid."

Steve's hands had instinctively gone out and grabbed Bucky's waist to steady them when he stumbled. He gave a little squeeze and a slightly bigger smile. "Thanks, Buck." He grinned, "Am I clear now?"

Bucky thanked God for whatever gene made his blush practically nonexistent. "Yeah, sorry," he said, releasing Steve's shoulders and mourning the loss of Steve's hands as soon as he stepped away. _Get a grip, Barnes_ , he mentally berated himself.

Steve laughed again and turned to slip an arm over Bucky's shoulders. "C'mon, there's no way you're not hungry after that, and even if you aren't, you should eat anyways."

Bucky frowned. "Quit turning my words around on me," he said, but allowed himself to be corralled back to the benches to take the skates off.

"Y'know, it's funny, I don't think those words belong to you."

Bucky had more choice words in Italian. Steve laughed the entire time.

"C'mon," he said. "I know a great little diner."

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Bucky's outfit:

 

 

Steve's outfit:

(Y'all idk how to do pics, this is the best way I know how, if anyone else knows a better way please tell me!!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the boys are starting to internally vocalize their obvious feelings for each other. I wonder what's gonna happen in the next chap? Oh wait, no I don't, I wrote it!! 😉
> 
> In all seriousness: I did some research and found out roller-skating rinks actually technically *were* a thing back when the boys were, well, boys, but I assumed since they were poor, they didn't necessarily have the money.
> 
> As you can see, there are now 5 chapters. This is not entirely correct. There are only 4, the 5th is more of a note that I feel needs to be said.
> 
> Also, in case y’all were wondering, the Disney movie Jarvis put on for them was The Aristocats.


	4. Chapter 4

"Well look who's back!" Somebody said as soon as they walked in. Bucky saw a woman probably twenty years younger than they were bustling towards them. "And he's brought his friend this time!"

"Hi, Grace," Steve chuckled, accepting the kiss to his cheek before returning the action. "It's good to see you."

"Yes, and who's fault is it that it took you so long?" She mock-scolded, hands on her hips for a second before Bucky caught her eye. "Hi there, sweetheart, my name's Grace. I know we only just met, but we do hugs in this house."

"Hugs are just fine by me," he assured her quietly. "I see an introduction on my part isn't needed?"

"Not with how much he talked about you," Grace said flatly, pointing a thumb at Steve, who looked up at the ceiling and mimed praying for death. Bucky laughed at him. "And what, pray tell, did he say about me?"

Grace made a face. "Only good things. I wanted hilarious dirty things."

"Yes, and that was because," Steve started, prompting her.

"Because he wanted it to be your choice," she finished on a sigh. "And the kicker is I can't even be mad at him 'cause I know he's right. Anyways, honeys, let's get you a table. The regular, Steve?" She led them to a table and busied herself with placing menus and rolls of silverware in front of chairs.

"That's alright, Grace, I'd love to look over the menu first this time," he thanked her. "I do know we'll need coffee, though."

"Coming right up," she promised, and hurried off.

"She's quite the character," Bucky remarked, and grinned. "She's great."

"I agree," Steve grinned back. "And seriously, the food here is great. You wanna look at the menu, see what you wanna have?

"Y'know, it's funny, I was thinkin' I'd just telepathically know," Bucky deadpanned. Steve made a face and smacked the top of his head with his menu, and Bucky sent him a very unimpressed glance. "You're an actual child, you know that?"

"Fuck off," Steve said easily.

"Steven Rogers, I don't care what you're the captain of, I will kick you out." Grace said from behind him, winking at Bucky.

"Sorry, Grace," Steve said contritely, and she shook her head, clearly enjoying herself.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day Captain America swore," but she was grinning, and Steve grinned too.

He shook his head and looked back down at his menu. "Oh, is that you subtly signaling you're ready to order, hm?" Grace laughed, took his menu. "What'll it be, hon?"

He ordered, then Bucky did, and Grace nodded, looked between the two of them, and thought the better of saying whatever she was about to.

Steve raised an eyebrow at Bucky, who smiled at him. "I like her. Thanks for bringing me."

"No problem," Steve said quietly, and smiled at him.

Not too long after, Grace brought their food out. With the promise to return for refills, and again with their check, she left them alone.

Steve grabbed the check and looked at it for a second before smiling and signing it. He stuffed one of them in his pocket and gave the other one to Grace with another peck to her cheek. "Thank you once again, Grace," he smiled, and she shook her head at him.

"You listen to me," she laid a hand on his cheek. "Alright? You deserve happiness."

"I'm listening," he promised. "I hear ya."

"And you," she said, moving on to Bucky. "You deserve happiness, too."

"Y'know, Steve keeps tellin' me that, and I think I'm starting to believe it." He winked at her, but she gave him a sad smile.

With a kiss to his cheek, she whispered, "Take care of yourself. And tell him how you feel, please."

He raised a brow, but just said, "Easier said than done, doll, but I'll try."

She rewarded him with a kiss to his cheek, and he returned the favor. "I'll definitely be coming back," he said as they parted. "Thanks, Grace."

She just nodded, but her smile told him all he needed to know.

 _How the hell do I tell him?_ Bucky wondered on the walk home, stealing glances when he was sure he wouldn't be caught looking. _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I don't know how to do this._

"Hey, Buck?" Steve asked when they were almost home. "There's something I wanna talk to you about."

Bucky raised a brow, "What, 'm I bein' called t' the principal's office?"

Steve laughed. "Nothing like that. Grace just brought something up earlier." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the receipt from the restaurant, smoothing it out before handing it to Bucky.

 _Tell him_ , read Grace's neat handwriting, _you both deserve happiness._

"Tell who, what?" Bucky asked, half hopeful and half dreading the answer.

"Tell you," Steve sighed. "That... well, that I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time."

Bucky stopped, letting Steve's words sink in. Steve stopped too, carefully hopeful. He stared at Steve for a minute before acting. "Fuckin' finally," he said, and brought his hand around the blond's neck to pull him closer and kiss him. Steve made a surprised noise then reacted, bringing his own hands to rest on Bucky, one on his hip and the other on the side of his neck.

Steve laughed breathlessly when they pulled apart. "You too?"

"For-fuckin'-ever," Bucky confirmed with another peck to his lips.

"Me too," Steve smiled, then gave a little laugh. "What number're you at now?"

Bucky couldn't help the laugh. Didn't want to help it. "High as the clouds now. Ten, Stevie."

"Me too, Buck. Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, finished!! Next chap will be up in a few minutes. It's not really a chapter, it's more of a disclaimer/explanation.
> 
> Also, in case this wasn't clear, Grace is like in her 70's; that's what was meant when it's said she's 20-something years younger than them.


	5. Chapter 5

I wanted to take this time to address a couple of things. The first one is, this fic is in no way meant to signify that once you find a partner, you won't be depressed anymore. Bucky was at a ten at the end of the fic, but that doesnt mean he's "fixed;" it just means he's at a ten at that moment.

Second, this fic is in no way meant to be used in dealing with depression. Some individual themes can be used (for example, the scale; as said before, I use it with a friend all the time). But if you are depressed, there's no replacement for therapy and meds. You can't cover it up or fake it. It won't work. Talk to people. You have friends, I swear. You have people who want to help you and who want to see you get better.

Backstory: I was depressed. I told my (very conservative) parents and they told me to stop listening to secular music. So I did. I only listened to Christian music.

It didn't help. I just learned how to hide it.

Then I was open about it at church. My friends rallied around me, my small group leader was supportive, and slowly but surely, I got better.

I've always been strong-willed. I didn't need medicine, and I didnt go to traditional therapy, but what I had helped. I'm okay now, relatively.

Then college happened. I had panic attacks almost daily.

I didn't make the same mistake of telling them. What I did do is get help. And again, I'm relatively okay now. It takes time to be okay, and that's where I'm at.

 

Back to the moral of the story, though: It's okay to need help. It's not weak or cowardly. It's the strongest thing you could do. Please don't think this story is an accurate reprsentation of depression. It's not. Some parts of it are true; it started with Steve on a really low day when he's usually okay. And that's true. That happens. Getting better doesn't mean you're there yet. There might always be gray days. It's just that those gray days become the exception, not the normality.

I took instances from my life for Steve, and from my friend's life for Bucky. There's no magic kiss that healed either of us, and there's not meant to be one in this story, either. This is simply meant to give you hope.

Because it's worth it. I swear it is. Keep going; the sunrise is beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, on the tail of that heaviness: Should I make this a series with snapshots of their day? Send me a prompt if you wanna see it!

**Author's Note:**

> Ta-da, Chapter One is completed!
> 
> So the number scale is something me & my best friend do. We've found it works really well for us and I thought it could work for our boys too! Once again, I love you all and thanks for comments/kudos!
> 
> NOTE: If you're struggling, GET HELP!! YOUR EMOTIONS, THOUGHTS, AND FEELINGS ARE VALID!!!


End file.
